


Chowderclef's Epic Adventure (I Guess)

by dw_fwedewick_heweiden



Series: ChowderHearts / Kingdom Chowder [2]
Category: Chowderclef, Kingdom Hearts, SCP Foundation
Genre: Amnesia, Cartoon Physics, Emotional Manipulation, Flashbacks, Keyfighting, Manipulation, Minor Character Death, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Panic Attacks, Partial amnesia, Past Character Death, Swearing, Swordfighting, Tags May Change, alcohol mention, listen theres a lot going on here and you want to know none of it, sora says fuck
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-28
Updated: 2020-07-25
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:47:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 11,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23884726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dw_fwedewick_heweiden/pseuds/dw_fwedewick_heweiden
Summary: Chowderclef finds himself in the midst of a bunch of keyblade stuff.I mean, it's Chowderclef, what did you expect?(Chapters will be very short. This is a crackfic, I swear.)
Series: ChowderHearts / Kingdom Chowder [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1752709
Comments: 6
Kudos: 7





	1. chowderclef gets a keyblade and also fucks up also sora is there

It was a beautiful day outside. Birds were singing, flowers were blooming, and Dr. Monarch was once again fighting Chowderclef, as per usual.

Barely ducking under a swing at his head, Chowderclef wondered, for not the first time during this fight, why Monarch was fighting with a giant key. This probably should not have been at the top of his list of priorities, given that Monarch was currently trying to pulverize his skull with said giant key, but the mind wants what it wants. As he countered a blow aimed towards his knees, he flung a ladleful of soup towards Monarch’s eyes.

The hit landed, and Monarch reeled back, free hand going to his helmet. Chowderclef took the opportunity to try and unhand the villain, placing his hands on the key-

-and was flung backwards by an enraged Monarch, hitting a large rock fairly hard. As he staggered to his feet, something shifted, almost calling to him, and he instinctively reached out for it.

Seconds later, Chowderclef also had an obscenely large key.

***

Somewhere very, very far away, a trio consisting of a duck, a dog, and a vaguely disturbed teenager realized they were utterly, completely, hopelessly lost.

“Goofy? Donald?” Sora asked.

“Yes?” both replied.

“Are we utterly, completely, hopelessly lost?”

“Yep,” said Donald.

“Uh-huh,” replied Goofy.

Sora considered this for approximately five seconds. “Well, that sucks. How do we get un-lost?”

“We don’t,” said Donald.

“Fuck.”

It was at that moment that Sora decided he gave up. He laid on the floor of the gummiship face-down and did not move. It was also at this moment that his gummiphone decided to ring.

None of the three picked up.

***

The area the two battled on was becoming increasingly unstable; Chowderclef could feel the stone crumbling under his feet as he swung at Dr. Monarch, aiming for the stomach. Monarch stepped back swiftly, sweeping his own weapon towards Chowderclef.

Monarch parried the blow easily and countered it with ease; Chowderclef was beginning to see the main issue with fighting Monarch using something Monarch himself was familiar with. Still, he made an effort to push Monarch back just a little bit. If he could just get Monarch to step off the cliffside without realizing-!

As if on cue, the entire wall of the cliffside they were fighting on gave way. Chowderclef, rather belatedly, realized the consequences of having Monarch further destabilize an already-unstable area. Alas, it was too late - the both of them were both tumbling down into a seemingly-endless abyss now.

And so Chowderclef did the only thing he could think of.

He swore.

***

Meanwhile, elsewhere in Radiant Gardens, Ienzo briefly wondered why Sora wasn’t picking up his phone before being distracted by an absolutely ear-deafening cracking noise. He hurried over to the window.

In the distance, an entire cliffside crumbled to the ground, somehow, even though the last the restoration team had checked that cliffside hadn’t even **_been_ ** unstable. He could very faintly hear the sound of swearing over the noise.

Ienzo sighed, and decided to go check how much alcohol was in the cabinet. He had a feeling he would need it.


	2. Ienzo Gets Increasingly Exasperated With Chowderclef

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ienzo finds himself increasingly exasperated with Chowderclef's "shenanigans".

Falling down an entire cliff was painful. To say the least. On the bright side, Chowderclef thought to himself, at least now he could say he’s done it.

Not that he’s the least bit happy about having done it, but really, could he pass up bragging rights for having survived falling off a cliff? No. No, he could not.

As Chowderclef pushed himself up to his feet, he heard a loud groan from somewhere near him. Presumably Dr. Monarch. Not wanting to deal with that, he hurried off to the side and nearly slammed into something.

Or, rather, someone. Said someone yelped and dropped something on the ground, where it promptly shattered. “Ah, sorry!”

Chowderclef backed up and squinted at whoever he’d just run into.

The person was much shorter than him (honestly not surprising, given that Chowderclef was a good 7 feet tall) and was wearing a cardigan under a lab coat, with an ascot tied nicely in the front. Blue-gray hair hung in front of his face; in Chowderclef’s opinion, the man absolutely needed a haircut, though he doubted the man would appreciate him saying it to his face. Whatever he had dropped had contained some sort of liquid. Sniffing the air, Chowderclef determined it was alcohol.

“So, if you don’t mind me asking, who in the name of fucking 343 are you?” asked Chowderclef, in a way that instituted that he wasn’t really asking.

The man did not look up from picking glass shards up off the ground. “Ienzo,” he replied, shoving a couple of the shards into his pockets. “And who are you?”

“My name,” here Chowderclef struck a pose, which the man did not see, “is Chowderclef. If you’re wondering why I’m here-”

“I’m assuming you’re the one who destabilized the cliff?” Ienzo said, straightening up. He patted his pockets, making sure none of the glass shards were going to fall out, and then winced as he realized perhaps that wasn’t the best idea. “I was wondering why it just collapsed, because it wasn’t unstable before. What on earth were you doing here in the first place?”

“No, that wasn’t me,” Chowderclef lied. “It was that guy over there.” He pointed to where Dr. Monarch lay, unconscious, as he should be after falling down a cliff.

“I see.” Ienzo did not, in fact, see. “So what you’re telling me is you had no involvement in this?”

“None at all.”

“Not even a little?”

“Nope.” Chowderclef locked eyes with Ienzo. “Not even a little.”

Ienzo still seemed sceptical, but decided that ultimately this conversation was not going to get him anywhere, and thus changed the subject. “Alright, I believe you. Where did you come from, anyway? I don’t think I’ve seen you around here. Admittedly, I barely ever leave the castle, but-”

“Wait, the castle?” interrupted Chowderclef. “You live in a castle?”

“Of a sorts, yes.”

“Can I see it?”

Ienzo was very quickly growing tired of Chowderclef’s company. “You may want to pick up your things first,” he said, gesturing to the Keyblades lying on the ground. “But I suppose, yes. I don’t have anything better to do right now.”  _ Since Sora can’t be bothered to pick up the phone,  _ he thought, perhaps just a little bit bitter. Just a little.

“Oh, only one of those is mine,” Chowderclef said, rather casually. He walked over to his weapon and picked it up, admiring it for a second before twirling it in his hand. “Don’t know where it came from, it just kinda appeared.” He stopped for a second, glancing around, before retrieving his ladle as well. “And this is-”

“A ladle. I can see that fine for myself,” Ienzo said. “And the other thing you’re holding-”

“The preposterously large key?”

“Yes, that. It’s a Keyblade,” Ienzo explained, fiddling with the edges of his sleeves. “Only the strong of heart can wield them, and-”

“Well, I’m certainly strong of heart,” Chowderclef interrupted, again. “No surprise why I have one.”

Ienzo sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, praying to every god he could think of that he didn’t lose his patience with this man. “Yes. Obviously. In addition to this, in order to have a Keyblade, you must have touched one before.”

Realization dawned on Chowderclef’s face as he internally played back his earlier battle with Dr. Monarch. “Oh,” he said, after a few moments. “That makes sense.”

“They can also lock and unlock every door and lock,” said Ienzo, who was now in full-blown explanation mode. “Depending on the wielder’s intent, they can either serve as a blunt weapon or a cutting tool, and it’s a natural conduct for magic. Also-”

“Wait,” Chowderclef said, once again interrupting Ienzo’s long speech on Keyblades. Ienzo was beginning to find it very, very tiring. “Magic?”

“Yes.” Ienzo dug through his pockets, momentarily forgetting that they were full of glass shards. He quickly regretted it, and swore under his breath as he withdrew his hand. “I would show you, but-”

“Your pockets are full of glass,” Chowderclef noted. “Wait, you have a-”

“No, I don’t have a Keyblade,” Ienzo answered, before Chowderclef could finish his question. “But I have video of a wielder. Now, come on,” he said, walking a short distance before stopping to look back at Chowderclef. “Didn’t you say you wanted to see the castle?”

With one final glance at the unconscious Dr. Monarch, Chowderclef hurried after him.

***

About ten minutes later, they arrived at the castle, which was quite honestly stunning. If a bit worn down at the edges, but that was to be expected when it had been abandoned for twelve years. Chowderclef oogled at it, despite having seen things that should have been more impressive than it; Ienzo, on the other hand, simply opened the door. “Wait in here,” he said, gesturing at what appeared to be the castle’s “lobby”. “I need to go empty my pockets. It’ll start getting very inconvenient if I just keep lugging glass around…”

Ienzo hastily made his exit, still muttering to himself. Chowderclef took the opportunity to look around; there was a fountain in the middle, and he took note of the strange instrument sitting on the side of it, seemingly for no particular reason. Above him was a platform, with two other platforms floating beside of it. Perhaps it was some sort of lift system?

Still, there wasn’t much time for him to observe the area, as Ienzo was quick to come back, (correctly) assuming that if left to his own devices Chowderclef would begin causing chaos. “Ah, still in one piece, I see,” he said. “That’s good, wouldn’t want someone else dying in this castle…”

“What do you mean, someone else?” Chowderclef demanded.

“That’s not important.” Ienzo waved off his concern. “I’ll show you the clip if you follow-”

Looking around wildly, Ienzo realized, belatedly, that Chowderclef had already wandered off. He sighed, trying to keep his rising anxiety under control. “Castle isn’t that big, he can’t have gone far…” he muttered, trying to ignore the fact that the castle was, in fact, that big, and that if he wandered into the right room he could end up in another world entirely.

He was finding it rather difficult to ignore.

***

Ten minutes later, Chowderclef found himself in quite the strange room.

For one thing, it was larger than most of the other rooms (barring the lobby). The ceiling seemed to be designed to open up to the outside world, being made of two metal panels and not much else. All the lights were on the walls and floor.

For another thing there was a spaceship in it. He was fairly certain that most people didn’t keep spaceships in castles. In fact, he was almost one hundred percent sure of this.

So he did what he assumed most people would do if they found a spaceship in a castle, and climbed into it.

It was at this moment that a fairly panicked Ienzo burst into the room, having just spent the past ten minutes frantically searching for Chowderclef, and was immediately greeted by Chowderclef saying “Get in, nerd, we’re going searching for aliens” and dragging him into the spaceship, said nerd yelping as he did so.

This was, in Ienzo’s mind, the absolute worst thing that could have possibly happened. Actually, it was probably the absolute worst thing that could have possibly happened outside of his mind as well, because Chowderclef did not know how to drive a spaceship.

Or how to drive at all.

Period.

But alas, not a soul could have dissuaded the vigilante hero from his goal. He fiddled with the buttons (and in doing so managed to set a course for some random world on the outskirts of the universe) and let out a whoop when the spaceship proved functional and lifted off the ground.

Ienzo decided the best course of action was to curl up under the seat and hope neither of them died.

***

Much further away, in a town nobody knows full of people no one has met, a certain rose-haired man perched on top of a church tower, observing a man far displaced from his own home.

Xemnas had told him to wait for the man to fall to darkness on his own; it wouldn’t do much good to force him, and they could recruit him afterwards if he had a strong enough heart.

But Xemnas had said to wait with the replica, too. And yet, Marluxia had been right to ignore him that time. Without the replica’s help, they’d all be dead, and then where would that leave Xemnas’s precious plan?

So what harm would it be, then? Perhaps not to force the man into darkness…

But to give him a little nudge?

Marluxia allowed himself a small grin, opening a dark corridor. He’d come back later, when he was prepared. Running in without backup was stupid; he knew that now. He’d learned his lesson from Castle Oblivion.

_ Soon, _ he promised.  _ Soon he’ll be ours. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whos that pokemon??? its...[REDACTED]  
> marluxia is going to be a recurring character because i love marluxia. fancy man  
> whos the organization after? whats this about a replica? is it replica riku??? no. no it isnt. sorry replica riku fans but he is sadly dead
> 
> im making up for the fact that the last chapter was only ~500 words with this ~1600 word chapter


	3. marluxia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marluxia begins enacting his plan.  
> Also, Chowderclef can't drive.

The hallways echoed too loudly in the Castle That Never Was. Marluxia wouldn’t admit it, but it unnerved him; it was far too easy to be overheard here. Still, he was relatively certain that he could go unnoticed if needed. It would take a bit more effort, but since when had he avoided that?

Demyx, however.

Xemnas had told him to fetch Demyx. Supposedly, it was for a mission “only he could do”; Marluxia doubted this. Demyx was lazy. He shirked his duties whenever possible, and often ended up avoiding missions entirely. He suspected this was Xemnas’s way of getting the boy to actually do something other than just sit around the castle.

Ingenious, really. Though if it were up to Marluxia, he wouldn’t stroke the boy’s ego too much. If he got too cocky…

It didn’t take too long to find the boy. As usual, he was lounging about in the Gray Area, messing about with his sitar. Marluxia strode up to him as quietly as possible; Demyx noticed him anyway, glancing up from his sitar to wave. “Oh, hey, Mar. What’s up?”

“Don’t call me that,” Marluxia snapped. “If you must know, Master Xemnas has a mission for you.”

Demyx let out a loud groan. “Aw, man. And here I was hoping…”

“Stop complaining. You have had several days to laze about.” Marluxia’s voice was cold and steady, as it always was. “Your mission is to...recruit someone. Whether by force or not is up to you. I will accompany you to the world, but I have...other duties there.”

“Boss send you after something, too?” Demyx chuckled.

“More like someone,” Marluxia replied. He wasn’t about to tell  _ Demyx _ that Xemnas had actually told him to do the opposite of what he was about to do. The boy didn’t need to know; and besides, if he ever needed to disclose that information, he’d tell it to someone he trusted.

“So who’s the guy I’m fetching?” Demyx asked, seeming curious. Of course, he wasn’t actually curious. Nobodies couldn’t feel. “Can’t exactly fetch him if I don’t know his name.”

“Something ice-related, I believe. Tundra, maybe? I don’t know, it’s a dreadfully boring name,” Marluxia said. Truth be told, he just hadn’t been listening. There were more important things to remember than the name of some weakling who almost certainly wouldn’t make the cut. “You’ll be given a briefing on paper anyway. Me telling you here won’t make a difference.”

“Let me guess, the boss doesn’t trust me to do this without notecards,” Demyx deadpanned. He really was quite good at imitating emotions.

“No, he doesn’t. You have done nothing to prove you are competent without them.”

“Aw, c’mon!” Demyx cried, much too loud for Marluxia’s liking. “I’ve done plenty!”

“Quiet down.” Marluxia glared at him. Or what he thought was a glare, anyway. He hoped it was a glare. “You are not trustworthy without guidelines. End of story.”

Marluxia stalked off, paying no attention to Demyx’s excuses as he left. There was no need to listen to that blundering idiot.

***

Thankfully for both Ienzo and Chowderclef, Chowderclef didn’t drive the ship directly into a boulder. From under the seat, where he had remained for most of the journey (except when Chowderclef had taken a sharp turn and the force had slammed Ienzo into a wall), Ienzo felt the ship drop as it began to descend and let out a sigh of relief. As long as Chowderclef hadn’t fiddled with the controls too much, autopilot would take care of the landing, meaning that they were no longer in immediate danger of dying.

This, of course, did not change the fact that he had no idea  _ where  _ they were landing, but that was another bridge to cross entirely. While Chowderclef had managed to set a course, the two of them had been in complete and utter confusion as to  _ where _ this course was actually going.

Well, really, just Chowderclef. Ienzo had been much too busy under the chair, trying not to scream, which was, quite honestly, a fair reaction to Chowderclef’s driving.

As the ship descended at a speed slightly too fast for Ienzo’s liking, the little voice that liked to induce panic in him sometimes reminded him that they may have survived the trip only to die moments later to an army of heartless. He mentally slapped it.  _ We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. Which may be slightly faster than anticipated. _

Indeed, the ship was now descending at much faster than Ienzo would like it to. He briefly considered asking Chowderclef whether he’d meddled with the controls, but decided that could wait until they landed.

If they survived landing, that is…

***

It didn’t take long to find who he was looking for. Then again, his target wasn’t exactly trying to hide, either; what was the point? It wasn’t as though he was well-known.

Not much he had to hide from, either…

Checking that his backup was still where he’d dropped it earlier, Marluxia pulled the hood of his cloak over his head and opened a dark corridor, directly behind his target. Perhaps not necessary, but it was dramatic and, more importantly, stealthy.

The alleyway was dark, and somewhat damp; for the life of him, Marluxia couldn’t figure out what drew his target to this place. Did it remind him of his homeworld? Or was it simply that he had nowhere else to go?

Almost as soon as those thoughts crossed his mind, Marluxia discarded them. Now was no time to be sentimental.

“Simon Glass.” Marluxia’s voice echoed off the walls, too loud in the cramped alleyway. His target froze in his tracks, surprised. “Born July 14, 1955. Graduated from college in 1976, and majored in psychology. Got a job as a therapist, was hired by a shady cartoon company in June of 1984.”

Marluxia paused. His target turned to face him, fear reflected in his eyes.  _ Ah, I’ve intimidated him. Good.  _ “Declared missing July 15, 1984,” Marluxia finished, taking another step forward. “The same day a one-off villain known as the Emotion Eater was introduced to the Chowderclef cartoon, which was canceled just a few years later, in 1987.”

“Who are you?” Simon demanded. He took a step back. Marluxia took another step forwards. “Why are you here? How do you know all of-?”

“I know a lot of things,” said Marluxia, purposefully not answering the other two questions.

By now, Simon had backed up enough that if he took another couple steps, Marluxia would have him cornered.  _ Just as planned.  _ He took another step forward, and Simon scuttled back, stopping once his back hit the wall.

Marluxia stopped, staring down the demon before him, before taking a single step back. It wouldn’t do him any good to tower over Simon like some sort of grim reaper (even if that was an accurate description of Marluxia); all it was doing was making him less receptive to his advances.

“My name is Marluxia, and I’ve come to make you an offer,” he said, lowering his voice.

“I don’t want your offer,” Simon spat back, though he was clearly still afraid. He attempted to push past Marluxia, towards the entrance of the alley. Perhaps he shouldn’t have made such a dramatic entrance, but was it so evil to want to toy with him a little?

Marluxia stepped aside, letting Simon through, before speaking up again. “What if I told you I could make you human again?”

Simon froze. For a second, he didn’t answer. “What?”

“I could make you human again,” Marluxia said. “Or rather,  _ we _ could make you human again.”

“Who’s we?” Suspicion laced Simon’s tone as he turned to face Marluxia once more, his eyes narrowed.

“Organization VIII. I work for them. Or, rather, with them.”

“And what are they doing? What are they working towards?” Simon didn’t move from where he stood. “What do they want with me, specifically?”

“Does it matter? What matters is, we can make you human again. Of course, with a price, but…” Marluxia allowed his voice to trail off. “Unless you don’t want to be human again.”

“No!” This time, Simon couldn’t keep the emotion out of his voice.  _ Weak,  _ Marluxia thought.  _ Easy game.  _ “No, I-” He trailed off. “I…”

Marluxia offered his hand. “So, will you join us?”

Simon took it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LISTEN there will be more chowderclef and ienzo content next chapter i just really wanted to introduce simon and demyx in this chapter  
> take a WILD guess who demyx is going after


	4. i probably should have waited to upload this oh well

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ienzo has a realization.
> 
> Also, Demyx.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw for a panic attack and ptsd flashback

Ienzo felt vaguely queasy as he stepped off the ship. A perfect valid feeling to have, considering the last ten minutes of his time had been spent damn near plummeting to the earth, and it was a miracle they were both alive.

Chowderclef, on the other hand, was completely and totally unphased. Somehow, he’s acting as if this was a totally normal occurrence, and they didn’t just almost die because he fiddled with the controls with no knowledge of how they worked, and then dragged Ienzo on an adventure he absolutely, positively did not want to be on right now. Or ever.

Speaking of which…

Ienzo still had no idea where they were.

A quick glance around revealed almost nothing, only that they were in some sort of yard-like area. Ienzo didn’t get a chance to look around in-depth, as he found himself being dragged off by a somewhat overenthusiastic Chowderclef, who was chattering away about something that Ienzo couldn’t quite catch. Absentmindedly, he wondered just what trouble that the man would get them into this time, before the pair stopped abruptly.

Ienzo looked up. “...Ah,” he said, after a moment, wriggling free of Chowderclef’s grip. “I see.”

He’d never expected to be standing before the towering doors of Castle Oblivion again; they were just the same as he remembered, still shining as though the gold had been recently polished.  _ Maybe it has,  _ he thought. The idea of there being Organization VIII members still stationed here scared him; he shuddered at the thought of meeting one. He wasn’t keen on losing his heart again - and was even less keen on losing his life.

Of course, that was only if worst came to worst. If they encountered anyone, it would most likely be a two on one battle, so being outnumbered wasn’t something to worry about. (Though, of course, this didn’t stop him from worrying about it all the same.)

The real worry, of course, was that the person they might run into would be Xigbar, or Saix, or - heaven forbid - Xemnas. All three of them were incredible fighters, and he had no doubt he’d be dead in an instant if they encountered him - whether he was alone or not.

After all, traitors were not treated kindly in the Organization…

He tried to shake those thoughts off. It was highly unlikely any members would be stationed here after the fiasco that was the incident with Namine, and if there were members stationed here they would most likely be members considered disposable.

(He tried not to think about facing Demyx. That would be too much for him.)

Besides, it wasn’t as though he had a choice in entering the castle - his travel partner was already dragging him inside.

_ Here we go again,  _ Ienzo thought, perhaps a little bit bitter. Well, okay, actually, a lot. He was very bitter, like a small expresso.

Chowderclef, of course, did not pay any mind to this, and the door swung shut with a low  _ thud  _ behind them as they entered, almost surprising Ienzo.

Almost.

***

The castle was exactly the same as it was when he...left, that was probably the word he was looking for. Same blinding white rooms, same silent hallways - the only difference was it was a bit darker. Clearly, no one had paid the electricity bill. This came as somewhat of a relief to Ienzo - if the lights were off, it was even less likely that they’d encounter anyone...unsavory.

The chances weren’t zero, of course. They were never zero. The Organization could get almost anywhere they pleased, and Ienzo was painfully aware of that. But they might not still be monitoring this area, and that, at least, gave him a little peace of mind.

Still, he didn’t exactly have good memories of this place. Forcing them down was proving more and more difficult as they traveled deeper into the depths of the castle. Despite how annoying it had been on the ship, Ienzo found a bit of comfort in Chowderclef’s ceaseless talking - at least he wasn’t alone.

Pausing, he turned to look down a familiar hallway, leading to a room he knew all too well. Before he knew it, he’d pulled himself away from Chowderclef - who didn’t seem to notice that much, and continued on his way - and began walking down the hall, running his fingers along the wall.

He knew this area. How could he not? He’d died here, after all.

The hallway led exactly where he expected it to lead. A room, long since abandoned, strange statues lining the walls. They seemed to stare at him, boring into his soul, and he tried his best to ignore them.

The room seemed to whisper, not to him, but about him.  _ Traitor, traitor, traitor,  _ it mocked, and he tried to ignore it. Logically, he knew it was all in his head - buildings couldn’t whisper, and heavens knows they couldn’t remember things.

But…

Ienzo turned to face the doorway. It wouldn’t do him any good to stay in that room-

_ \- Axel stood in the doorway, and was that Riku behind him? No, it was the replica, Vexen’s replica - but Vexen was- _

-and before he knew it he was on the ground, struggling to breathe again -

_ \- there were hands on his neck, lifting him off the ground. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think- _

He struggled to his feet, panic overtaking his entire body as he hid himself behind a statue. No one could see him like this-

_ \- he was fading, wasn’t he? No, he didn’t want to die, he didn’t- _

His legs gave out under him again, and he leaned against the statue. He couldn’t breathe. It felt like his ribs were being crushed by a hydraulic press. Something wet ran across his cheeks, and he shakily raised a hand to them. Was he crying?

_ \- but then, didn’t he deserve it? _

And didn’t he deserve it still?

***

Demyx shuffled through his notecards impatiently, waiting for his target to show up. Just his luck that whoever it was was located in this backwater, middle-of-nowhere town. He could probably live here for years and never be able to place a name on a face, that’s how boring it was.

(It felt hauntingly familiar. But Demyx pushed that aside. It could wait.)

At least he’d been sent to a part of the town that was at least mildly interesting - sitting in a garden was much better than sitting in some alleyway, like Marluxia.

He absentmindedly strummed his sitar as he waited.  _ Can’t he get here any faster?  _ he wondered, frustration brewing in the back of his mind.  _ I don’t have all day. Or, well, I do have all day, but… _

Technically, he wasn’t allowed to go back to The Castle That Never Was until he either recruited this guy or made him a Heartless. For convenience’s sake, he hoped it was the former - more people meant he could avoid jobs easier, which meant avoiding any anger at failing at jobs. He got the feeling Marluxia was starting to get annoyed at his lackadaisy attitude, but since when did he care?

(Well, since always, but he wouldn’t admit that.)

Footsteps echoed behind him, alerting Demyx to a newcomer’s presence. He turned to wave, a lazy grin spreading across his face.

The newcomer wore some sort of suit, almost like an astronaut’s suit. Demyx was fairly certain that, if he absolutely had to, he could probably put a name to this person’s face, provided he knew it. The person inside the suit looked absolutely infuriated, and Demyx couldn’t help but wonder what had him so riled up. He felt cold just being near the man.

With a jolt, Demyx realized this must be his target. His expression didn’t change, but he watched as the man - Permafrost, wasn’t that his name? Or was it Iceberg? He couldn’t remember - stormed across the area.

“Hey, wait!” he called out, raising his sitar in the air.

The man turned, crossing his arms. “What?”

_ Huh, didn’t expect that to work.  _ “Wanna stay for a song?” Demyx asked, careful to keep his expression steady. “I’ll let you pick.”

For a moment, it looked like Permafrost genuinely wanted to stay. He shook his head, though. “Sorry, don’t have time today. Maybe another time?”

“Sure, come back whenever,” Demyx replied, already going back to his strumming.

Permafrost turned away again, before hesitating and turning back. “Wait, I haven’t seen you before-?”

“The name’s Demyx,” he said, offering Permafrost his hand with a cheeky grin on his face. He balanced the sitar on his knee. “I’m not from around here.”

Permafrost took it. His hand was exceedingly cold, and Demyx wondered how the man could stand it. “Permafrost,” he said, answering Demyx’s unasked question. “I’m...technically here on business.”

“You too? Thought it was just me.”

“It’s not enjoyable, but yes,” Permafrost said, with a snort. He crossed his arms and took a seat next to Demyx, cold seeping into the air between them. “Though, I wonder when I’ll stop getting sent on wild goose chases. It’s clear that Cho- I mean, the person I was sent after isn’t anywhere around here.”

Demyx hummed and fiddled with his sitar, running his fingers across the strings. The sound rang out in the small garden area, soft and pleasing to the ear. “So why don’t you just quit?”

“I’ll get killed,” said Permafrost.

“Not if you join something more dangerous than them.”

Permafrost snorted at this, louder than any of the previous angry snorts. “And who the hell would that be?”

Demyx set aside his sitar with a grin. “Let me tell you about the place I work for…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> demyx
> 
> hopefully i wrote the flashback part ok! i dont have much experience with it, and its almost 1 am
> 
> this chapter just kind of whiplashes you around and hopes you survive, much like chowderclef's driving


	5. arent you tired of being nice? dont you just wanna go apeshit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chowderclef meets a new face, and said new face is very, very angry at being forgotten.

As Chowderclef wandered the castle, he came to the sudden realization that he did not, in fact, know where Ienzo was. This was mildly concerning, considering the last he’d checked, Ienzo had been directly beside of him.

This, of course, could be for a number of things. He supposed the scientist(?) could have left to use the bathroom, or been kidnapped by Dr. Monarch. Both of these things would be easily fixable if he wasn’t lost in a giant castle where all the walls, doors, floors, ceilings, and other area fixtures were pure, sheer white. It was getting very tiring.

Opening a few doors only made him more lost, but he eventually found his way to a staircase; after a few moments of contemplation, he headed down, hands gripping the sides as tight as a shut clam shell. At first, it was too dark to see; however, after a fair bit of fumbling around, he managed to turn on the light.

The basement was...a little strange. It was a basement, all right, although he didn’t know many basements that had cages in them. Maybe that was just a weird local thing. It was also all white (just like every other damn thing in the castle).

He could vaguely hear someone in another room.  _ Ienzo?  _ Heading over to the door from which the sound emanated from, he opened it just a crack and peered in. “Ienzo? That you?”

A somewhat small, extremely angry teenager attempted to assault him immediately. He shut the door. “No, I’m assuming that’s not you. Unless your hair color changed in the last twenty minutes. And your height. And age.”

“I’M GONNA KICK YOUR ASS!”

Chowderclef considered this.

On one hand, the person on the other side of the door very much wanted him to open it.

On the other hand, it was so they could beat him up.

Well, he didn’t really care either way. It was just another Tuesday, really. Except for the fact that it was Friday, and wasn’t really normal in the slightest, but since when was anything in Chowderclef’s life normal? Never, and he didn’t care in the slightest.

His decision was made for him when the very angry teenager broke the door down with what looked like an axe, but in a circle. Instinctively, he summoned his Keyblade and blocked a blow that would have otherwise split his head in half; talking a step back, he attempted to retaliate, only for the teen to block the blow and begin a barrage of attacks. He could barely keep up, and he realized with a growing sense of dread that he might not win this fight. Not that he wasn’t going to try, of course; he wouldn’t be Chowderclef if he just gave up!

Step by step, the teen backed him into a corner. For every blow he countered, two more were thrown. The fact that at some point the teen had pulled some sort of weird circle with spikes on it that was on _ fire _ did _ not  _ help matters, whatsoever.

However, this was Chowderclef, and, as he was bestowed with Protagonist Power, he was not allowed to die. Blocking a blow aimed at his head, he shoved the much shorter and much angrier teen out of his way, effectively reversing their positions. This made the angry teenager even angrier, and they dropped the weapons in their hands only to summon two Keyblades, one an exact copy of his own.

Even Chowderclef had to admit things weren’t looking so great for him. He was not a talented swordsman, much as he would love to be. He was also devoid of his favorite weapon, New England clam chowder, something he was very upset about.

As he parried blow after blow, his blade vibrating with each hit, he wondered how long it would take for this very angry child to get tired and give up.

The answer turned about to be “precisely one minute and thirty two seconds in the future”. The child abruptly dropped their weapons on the floor, where they disintegrated like the previous two had. “Wait a second, you’re not one of those fucks.”

“Language,” said Chowderclef, being a complete hypocrite. “It’s a kid’s show, y’know.”

“Fuck you,” said the teen. “Anyway, who are you? Who are you with? Why in the everloving name of all nine rings of Hell are you here?”

“Chowderclef, a scientist, and I don’t really know, I just got here,” answered Chowderclef, in quick succession. He dropped his Keyblade, realizing with quite a bit of confusion that it, too, disintegrated. How had he not noticed that before? “Who are you?”

“My name is Xion.” The teen - no, Xion glowered at him. “Who do you mean by a scientist? It’s not fucking Vexen, is it? If it’s Vexen I call dibs on whatever weird shell is presumably in his chest instead of a heart.”

“Um,” Chowderclef said. He was not really, entirely sure how to deal with children in general, much less a very angry teenager who seemed to have quite a few anger issues. “No, his name’s Ienzo.”

Xion waited for him to continue. He did not. “Elaborate,” she said, after it became clear that Chowderclef was not going to describe him without prompting.

He considered something for a moment. “Blue-gray hair, kinda in an emo hairstyle? Labcoat, ascot, and, uh…” He struggled to find words for a moment, scratching his chin in thought. “He’s jumpy, I guess?”

Xion had stopped listening at ‘emo hairstyle.’ “Zexion,” she hissed, and dashed off, much to the chagrin of Chowderclef. “Kid, wait up!” he shouted, running off after her.  _ Kids these days! Always on about murder! _

***

It was quite a bit of an understatement to say Xion was angry.

See, Xion was pissed. She was full of rage, and a good bit of hatred as well, and she was going to take it out on any of those Organization  _ motherfuckers  _ she could find. They left her to die - to be  _ forgotten,  _ tossed out like she’d never been important. She doubted a single one of them remembered her.

After all, what did a replica matter to them?

It might not matter to them, but it sure as hell mattered to Xion. Even better, she knew where one of her targets was - Zexion might think himself clever, but he’d made a critical mistake coming here with...whoever that Chowderclef guy was.

She hissed under her breath as she opened another door. So far she hadn’t found anything, but Castle Oblivion was huge. He was here somewhere, he had to be!

Though, she wondered what exactly he’d come back here for. Maybe his research notes?

Slamming open yet another door, Xion paused. She hadn’t really stopped to think on where Zexion would hide, and she had absolutely zero clue where any of the rooms were, having never lived here herself. She also doubted Zexion was actually hiding, since, presumably, he wouldn’t know she was alive again, and also extremely pissed and on a warpath.

That left her with two options - continue slamming her way through the castle (and risk alerting him before she even got close enough to strike a blow) or take it more slowly (and risk whoever that Chowder guy was catching up with her, and alerting Zexion of their presence before she even got close. Chowderman was  _ loud _ ).

This wasn’t even accounting for the possibility that Zexion just had a doppelganger who also happened to be a scientist with emo hair, or that he’d already made his escape, ditching the Chowderclam guy or whatever his name was. It was also not accounting for the whole ‘teleportation’ thing that the Organization members did, though most of them put up a cursory fight before fleeing.

Xion sighed. _ This might be a bit harder than I thought it would be, _ she thought, opening another door. A sound to her right alerted her of something, and on reflex she pulled out a weapon at random, pointing it at the noise. When no immediate danger shows itself, she cautiously tiptoed over, her steps near-silent.

The wall slid open without a sound, and something (maybe a rat?) scampered off, most likely being the source of the noise. A grin spread across her face.  _ Of course. A secret passage…he always was fond of those. I think. _

The wall closed behind her as she stepped in. Darkness surrounded her, and she found herself wishing she’d brought a lamp along as she dragged her hand along the wall, attempting to figure out where she was going.

Then the wall opened up again, dumping her out in the middle of a hallway she didn’t recognize (then again, she didn’t recognize any of the hallways in this castle in the first place). She kept the weapon she was holding in her left hand - Saix’s claymore, Xion realized, albeit belatedly. She hadn’t really been paying attention when she summoned it.

There was something down the hallway. She could feel it. She did not have an explanation for how she could feel it, other than “the power of sheer rage”, but she could feel it. Marching down the hallway (well, more walking quietly, but internally she was marching), she opened the door, her gaze sweeping across the room before locking onto a figure underneath one of the statues.

Ah. Zexion. He hadn’t noticed her yet. Now was her chance.

As quietly as possible, she got to his side, raising the claymore above her head -

-shit. He looked up at her, confusion clouding his gaze before he realized what she was about to do. Xion brought the claymore down as hard as she could, and he scrambled backwards. If she played this right, she could corner him.

(It was a little weird that he didn’t seem to be fighting back, but maybe he was just surprised?)

She kept going with the claymore, swinging hard and fast and forcing him to retreat further to the wall. It probably helped that he’d already been on the floor when Xion had entered the room, and she was going to take every little bit of luck she could get. Fate had fucked her over once, and she wasn’t going to let it get in the way this time.

A couple more swings, and she had him backed into a corner. Xion lifted the claymore, prepared to strike a killing blow, or at least hit him a couple times until he died-

\- Blocked. Fuck. Zexion looked just as surprised as her, though, and was also not holding a Keyblade, so it clearly wasn’t his doing. Looking to her side, she saw the weird Clamchowder guy (what even was his name again?) blocking her from hitting the horrible bastard on the floor in front of her.

“Oi, kid,” said Chowderfuck. “Really rather you not kill him.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Xion groaned, dropping the claymore. She needed something a little more versatile for this fight - she didn’t want to outright kill him. Within moments she had Larxene’s weird...knife...thingies in her hands. “You really wanna go again?”

“Not particularly,” Soupman admitted. “Listen, why don’t we all just...exit the castle in an orderly fashion and we’ll go from there?”

Xion, realizing that she probably wasn’t going to be able to kill Zexion when Clamsoup was anywhere nearby, begrudgingly agreed. “Whatever,” she grumbled, dropping the knives to the floor.  _ It might be useful to try and get his trust anyway. Would make killing Zexion a lot easier… _

With a final glare towards Zexion, who was now being bodily picked up by Clamboy, she turned away, before realizing she had absolutely no idea how to get out of Castle Oblivion. “Say, do you know where the exit is?...”

“Nope!” Clamfuck said, rather cheerily. Xion groaned.

She was not looking forward to this, whatsoever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i think xion should be angry. i think she deserves it


	6. the organization hires a mess and a demon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The new recruits have their first meeting, and Xemnas talks about the newest threat.

As Xasiac (Xasiac was his name, even though he was pretty sure it wasn’t) stepped - or rather, materialized - into what Demyx had called the “meeting area” and was in practice just a bunch of very tall rocks (thirteen of them, to be precise), he found himself wondering how, exactly, he’d managed to get in this situation.

Sure, he didn’t exactly have strong feelings on being on a very tall rock in the sky. (Actually, he didn’t really have very strong feelings on anything, anymore, but that was another can of worms entirely, and one he’d rather not open at this precise moment.) It was still a source of very mild confusion, though.

Everything from the past few days was blurry, like when you woke up from a very peculiar dream, except that this wasn’t a dream. It was real life. He’d straight up lost entire sections of his memory, as well - again, much like a dream. A part of him wanted to think this was just a very realistic dream, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to believe it.

From his perch, he could see the other members of the organization he’d joined at some point (or so he’d been informed when he woke up). Not all of them were here yet, or so he was told, but he could see a pink-haired man on one of the rocks to his left. On the rock directly to his left was Demyx, one of the only ones he currently knew the name of, and two rocks to his right was someone who looked demonic in appearance. Hell, he even had horns, and weird-colored skin!

(Then again, Xasiac couldn’t really talk, considering his own skin was kind of weird, and very cold, and also made of ice. Honestly, he wasn’t sure how he hadn’t melted yet.)

On a rock across from him stood a ginger-haired man with a scarf on top of his cloak. Every three point two five seconds, the man would look over to the rock beside of him. (Xasiac had timed it.) And every single time he looked over, his expression grew more impatient.

On the largest rock was Xemnas. Xasiac wasn’t sure how he knew that the tall man with white hair that cascaded down to his waist, tan skin, and mysteriously appealing yellow eyes was Xemnas. He just did.

(He also wasn’t sure why he was inclined to describe him like an anime character, either, but he did anyway, if only internally. Xemnas just had that kind of vibe.)

To the left of Xemnas was a guy with a book and blueish, emo hair. Those were really the only things that stood out about him.

As Xasiac observed the other members, dark corridors began opening on the other rocks. Two opened on either side of the ginger-haired guy; out of the one on the left stepped a man with very long, silver hair, much like Xemnas, although his hair was tied in a braid rather than simply let loose like Xemnas’s. Out of the one on the right stepped a blonde-haired woman who looked like she could and would murder him, tossing a few knives up in the air and catching them as she exited the corridor.

A corridor opened on Xemnas’s right, as well; out of that one stepped a man with an eyepatch. Or, well, not stepped. More jumped.  _ Must have a flair for the dramatic, _ thought Xasiac.  _ I can relate to that. I think. _

A corridor opened directly beside of Xasiac, and he jumped, a little surprised. Only a little, though. The person who stepped out of that portal - well, more fell out, honestly - looked quite a bit younger than the other members. Shoulder-length, pale blue hair, and some sort of choker on his neck with a moon on it.

A bit of a strange rock-neighbor he had, but he’d overlook it. The rest of the members were filtering in anyway; there were far more interesting people to stare at.

Before he could do much staring, however, the last member had arrived. Xemnas cleared his throat. “May I have your attention, please?”

Every single eye turned to Xemnas. Satisfied that he had everyone’s attention, the man began to speak. “As you may have already noticed, our recruitment stages have been, for the most part, successful-”

Xasiac heard the blonde woman snicker at that, and got the feeling she was looking at him. He didn’t look back. It didn’t matter.

“- and we have several new recruits.” Xemnas gestured at Xasiac and the weird demon guy. “Marluxia was kind enough to... _ speed up  _ the recruitment process for one of them.” Somehow, Xemnas managed to be both sincere and sarcastic in his tone. Xasiac got the feeling that whoever Marluxia was was not supposed to be speeding up the recruitment process.

“So, let us all welcome to our ranks Xasiac-” here Xemnas stared directly at him, and he felt a shiver creep up his spine, “-and Nixmos.” His gaze shifted off of Xasiac, towards the demon guy.  _ That must be Nixmos, then. He looks...familiar? _

“Onto the next order of business-”

Xemnas was interrupted by the blonde lady. “Wait, didn’t Nexi say he’d bring a recruit, too?” Xasiac flinched at the sound of her voice. It was like someone rubbing metal on a cheese grater - not at all enjoyable.

The silver-haired man beside of the ginger guy spoke up. “I’ve been experiencing some...difficulties, but I should have him by-”

“Irrelevant,” Xemnas said, cutting both of them off. “I have already spoken with Nexisul on this matter, Larxene. There is no need for unnecessary hostilities.”

The blonde - Larxene - mumbled something inaudible. Nexisul glared at her. Xasiac got the feeling that if the ginger wasn’t standing between them, they would have started physically fighting each other.

“Onto the next topic,” Xemnas stated, ignoring the two. “There is...a possible new threat. Recently, Castle Oblivion was-”

“We abandoned Castle Oblivion for a reason,” said someone. Xasiac turned around. The voice belonged to another blond, this one a man, with hair almost as long as Xemnas’s. He looked a bit peeved. “That reason being that half of the Organization died there.”

“That is true,” Xemnas amended. “But it was still hidden, for good reason. And yesterday, it was breached.” He gestured in Xasiac’s direction; he froze, before realizing that Xemnas was pointing at the younger member beside of him. “Luiax, if you would?”

With a sigh, the young boy - Luiax, Xasiac presumed - summoned a staff, tapping it on the ground. In the middle of the rock circle, mist began to form, taking the image of a man wearing a mask with horns on it and an apron.  _ Chowderclef. A formidable threat,  _ thought Xasiac, and then he wondered how he knew that.

“I swear he uses me like a projector sometimes,” muttered Luiax. Xasiac looked at him in surprise before turning his eyes back to the strange mist-illusion.

“This is what we’re up against,” Xemnas stated, his face expressionless. “Bare in mind that, on his own, this enemy might not be intimidating. However, we can confirm that two former members of the Organization have joined him, and that he wields a Keyblade.”

Xasiac heard a couple people gasp. He wasn’t sure what a Keyblade was, or why it was so surprising that this guy had one, but he supposed it was interesting enough.

“It is to my understanding that these are the members that joined him, one prior to entering Castle Oblivion and one during his entry.” Xemnas gestured at Luiax again; the picture shifted to include a man that looked very, very similar to the guy with the book (they could be twins, even!) and a very angry looking teenager with black hair and a claymore.

More gasps. The blond man in particular seemed shocked. “Xion is dead!” he shouted, above the pandemonium. “In fact, Xion wasn’t a person in the first place!”

“Calm yourself, Vexen,” Xemnas said, folding his hands behind his back. “It should not be too hard to...ah, get rid of these threats. Our main concern right now is Sora.”

The image shifted again, this time to a brunette teen holding some sort of key-shaped sword. “There have been no confirmed sightings of him in the last few months. You all should know why this is concerning.”

Xasiac did not, in fact, know why this should be concerning. He did not have any strong feelings on this.

“Therefore, our main mission in the following months is to locate and capture Sora, and to decommission the new threat in any manner possible. I believe Nexisul already has a head start on that,” Xemnas continued, gesturing towards the man in question. “As does Xigbar.”

The eyepatch guy nodded enthusiastically. Perhaps a little too enthusiastically.

“Our new recruits have previous experiences with this threat, I believe?” Xemnas looked towards him and Nixmos. Nixmos nodded, and Xasiac found himself nodding as well, more to make it look like he was contributing something than as a real answer. “Good, good. You’ll be...useful, in the coming months.”

The ginger checked his watch. “Can we hurry this up? I’ve got a poker session.” Nexisul nudged him. “I mean. A dentist appointment.” Another nudge. “Never mind.”

“That was the last thing we had to discuss regardless,” Xemnas stated, his expression neutral. “Demyx, Marluxia, I expect you to show Xasiac and Nixmos their new living place. Nexisul, do tell me when you’ve got that new recruit…” Xemnas waved his hand in the air. “Meeting adjourned. Xelios, whatever you have going on, I do hope it goes well.”

“By goes well, you mean ‘don’t die’, right?”

“Precisely.”

***

The Castle That Never Was was a little intimidating, Nixmos had to admit.

Not nearly enough that he actually had a strong feeling about it, of course. But still intimidating, enough that he could taste the wariness coming off of Marluxia as the pink-haired man led him around.

“This is the Gray Area,” Marluxia said, gesturing at the large space. Several objects were scattered around, seemingly as seating. “This is where Demyx is, usually, if he’s not slacking off in his room. This is also where you come for briefings.”

Nixmos nodded, feeling no need to speak. Marluxia continued with his explanation of the castle, walking as he talked. “Over there are the rooms -” he gestured to a hallway off to the left, “- you’ll know which one is yours. There’s a bunch of balconies and walkways and such, but I don’t-”

“You don’t trust me not to fall off of them,” Nixmos said, mildly amused. 

“Well, I wasn’t going to put it that way, but no, I don’t.” Marluxia huffed. “Over there is the Library, though I believe Vexen is in there with Zexion right now, and they likely won’t want us bothering them.”

Nixmos nodded again, allowing Marluxia to continue his rambling. He wasn’t paying much attention, truthfully; these were all things he could have learned on his own, and in a much quicker fashion. His thoughts turned to the other recruit that had joined alongside him; Xasiac, was that his name?

He’d seemed oddly familiar, like he’d met him before, but perhaps only once. Nixmos could feel the confusion radiating off of him from where he’d been standing; for not having hearts, some of the Nobodies were surprisingly emotional.

Not that that was a problem, of course. More food for him.

Idly, he wondered why Marluxia was so tense. The castle was a part of it, he was sure; everything echoed a little more than was natural here, and he had a feeling that was by design. But something else was clearly off, and Nixmos intended to find out what it was.

First, though, there was the matter of getting settled, and, of course, the matter of Xasiac and Chowerclef. He didn’t know who was accompanying the “hero” this time; from the looks of it, he’d managed to gather a scrawny-looking scientist (who he had to admit looked quite a bit like Zexion) and an angry teenager. Admittedly, this was better than his normal team, which usually consisted of just himself, or one of those strange side characters, but he wasn’t particularly threatened by them.

In fact, if he dug deep down where his heart used to be, he found it a little silly. Chowderclef claimed he was so great, and then he had to stoop to children for help? Ridiculous, indeed.

But once again, Nixmos wasn’t going to argue. It made it easier for him, and if he was lucky he might be able to pick them off one by one.

The thought amused him, however slightly it may be.

Marluxia stopped suddenly, and Nixmos was thrown out of his thoughts. “We’re done,” he said, turning away. “I’ve shown you what I can, you’ll have to see the rest for yourself.”

Nixmos smiled and bowed slightly. “The tour was appreciated,” he said, noting Marluxia’s slight pause. “Though I must ask - what exactly was on your mind?”

Marluxia hesitated, before continuing to walk away without answering. Nixmos felt amusement bubble up in his chest.

Digging up the secrets of his coworkers was going to be fun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hmmmmMMMMMMMMM


	7. homecoming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chowderclef finds his way home.

A few days have passed since the Castle Oblivion Incident, as Ienzo liked to call it, or would like to call it if he had to call it anything. Over the past few days, Chowderclef had been leading the group on a wild goose chase in a futile attempt at returning to his own world. Supposedly, he was worried about the crime rate skyrocketing. Ienzo secretly thought that the crime rate in that world had probably plummeted by the sheer merit of Chowderclef not being there anymore.

Seriously, the man caused  _ so  _ much property damage.

During this somewhat fruitless venture, Xion calmed down a bit. She and Chowderclef had become...well, friends wasn’t really the word for it. Acquaintances, more like. They were at least on speaking terms.

The same could not be said of Ienzo and Xion, unfortunately. If she chose to speak to him, which, for the most part, she did not, it was usually to either insult him or call him a vaguely embarrassing nickname.

At the very least, she’d accepted that he wasn’t Zexion. It didn’t do anything to improve her opinion of him, but it was a small comfort for Ienzo.

Currently, the group of three was situated in the gummiship. Chowderclef had apparently caught wind of his home world being two worlds to the left and straight on til morning from the world they were just on - never mind that he’d said that about 3 other worlds prior to that. That didn’t matter.

What did matter is that Ienzo was actually in agreement with him this time. While they’d been situated in whatever hellish world Chowderclef had brought them to that time, he’d stayed in the gummiship to mess around with the blackbox of the vehicle. His muddling resulted in him picking up an unknown signal approximately 5153150 kilometers in the east. This was in the same general area as where Chowderclef was currently steering them, and Ienzo had a hunch this was the place that they were looking for.

Of course, this required them getting there in one piece. Chowderclef hadn’t obliterated the ship yet, but that didn’t mean his driving had gotten any better…

  
  


***

  
  


Chowderclef hovered over a world, squinting at it. “I think this is our stop,” he said, for what had to have been the sixth time in as many days. “I’m gonna try to-”

“ **_Please_ ** use autopilot to land,” Ienzo groaned, from the very back of the ship, where he had been huddled for pretty much the entire drive. Xion muttered vague agreement from the front of the ship, as far away from Ienzo as possible without physically climbing out of the ship and onto the top of it.

“Fine, fine,” Chowderclef said, not taking any particular offence to it. “Only because there’s a lot of buildings, though.” He pressed a button, and the ship began its descent, gliding through the thin cloud layer of the world.

As soon as the ship touched the ground, Chowderclef opened the door, poking his head out. “Yep, this is the right place,” he said after a moment, retreating back into the ship. “I recognize this area. Near a warehouse, I think. Kinda quiet, though.”

Relieved to hear that, at long last, they were actually in the place they were supposed to be in, Ienzo came to the front of the ship. “So what are you going to do now?”

“Probably patrol or something, I don’t know.” Chowderclef shrugged. “I guess one of you can come along if you want.”

Curiosity got the best of Ienzo, as usual. “I’ll come,” he said, getting the distinct feeling that he was going to regret it. “It doesn’t seem too bad out there, from what you’ve said, so…”

“Well, if he’s going, I’m not,” Xion grumbled, crossing her arms.

“That’s fine,” Chowderclef answered. “Don’t drive off, though. I don’t think you’re old enough to drive, anyway.”

Xion muttered something about adults, retreating to the back of the ship to glare at Ienzo’s back. Ienzo sighed. “Should we...get going?”

Chowderclef held up a hand. “Wait one second.” He turned to the front of the ship and pressed a couple random buttons, before pulling a ladle out of his hat. Ienzo decided it would be best not to question it. “Now I’m ready. Let’s go.”

  
  


***

  
  


The road was quiet, rare for a city as large as Night City. It was almost like nobody was there anymore; that couldn’t be possible, though. It had only been a few days since Chowderclef had left. It simply wasn’t possible for the city to have been abandoned so quickly, especially when nothing was visibly wrong.

Ienzo picked his way around some random debris, wondering why it was left out like this. Then again, they were in an alleyway behind an abandoned warehouse; there wasn’t much reason to keep this area clean. It was unclear whether this was part of Chowderclef’s normal patrol route, but considering how eccentric the man was, it may very well have been.

Following closely behind him was Chowderclef, more on edge than usual, most likely due to the city’s strange emptiness. Every few seconds, he turned to look behind him, trying to see if they were being followed; they never were.

The alleyway grew darker the further they got into it, with more and more debris scattered around. Spotting a patch of something darker colored on the ground, near a hole in the warehouse’s wall, Ienzo carefully made his way over, stepping over what looked to be a part of the wall as he did. He crouched down to inspect it further. That’s when the smell hit him.

The entire area smelled like death. Gagging, Ienzo stood up, backing away as quickly as he could. He nearly tripped over a chunk of plaster, and bumped into a somewhat shocked Chowderclef. The only thing on his mind was getting  _ away  _ from there.

Curious as to what had caused such a reaction in Ienzo, Chowderclef peered at the stain, ignoring the smell. Cautiously, he took a step towards the hole in the wall, peeking inside of the warehouse.

The stench was overwhelming, the iron smell of blood mixed with the smell of rot. Something was dead in here, and had to have been for at least a couple days. It was too dark to see anything without Ienzo’s flashlight, and, of course, Ienzo had that.

Chowderclef poked his head out. “Hey, Ienzo, can I borrow your flashlight?” Ienzo tossed it over, with maybe a little bit too much force. Chowderclef caught it with ease. “Thanks.”

Flicking the light on, he swept the beam over the floor, not seeing much. The beam only lit up a small portion of the area at a time, however; he was not particularly thrilled about this. Anything could be hiding in the dark areas.

As he walked further into the warehouse, his light caught something partially obscured by a table. He made his way over to it, noting the devastation of the warehouse, and the strange, seemingly broken machines that littered it.  _ This used to be a clothing warehouse...so why’s there machines in here? They seem pretty advanced, too… _

Reaching the overturned table, he turned his light towards the unknown object. Lying on the floor was a mask of some sort; he recognized it as the mask worn by Shatter. He hadn’t gone up against the man often, but he’d seemed like a formidable threat, if incredibly over the top. He doubted he’d leave this here without a good reason, since he seemed pretty attached to it. (At the very least he hadn’t shattered it in the instances they’d fought.)

He trailed the light towards the wall and blinked. Something - or rather, someone - was slumped against the wall, a long, thin object protruding out of them. As Chowderclef approached, he realized it was Shatter - no wonder his mask had been left here, then. A sword was impaled through his gut, the sun emblem at the base of the hilt shining in the flashlight’s beam. Briefly, he wondered if the man might still be alive, but quickly discarded the idea. The way that sword had gone through him...

Backing away, Chowderclef turned the flashlight off, suppressing the urge to vomit.

He’d seen enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am so sorry for shoehorning my own oc into this, i swear it wont happen again (it will)  
> also sorry for this being a bit short i wanted to get this scene in and there wasnt really a good way of showing progression of time. just know its been a long few days for ienzo


	8. i was listening to bifrost incident while writing this can you tell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's a new face in the Organization base.
> 
> Also, something atrocious happens.

It was late evening on a Friday when Nexisul returned from wherever the heck he’d been. Luiax couldn’t help but be curious, but he knew better than to ask the man himself. No, it was better to watch from the shadows.

Of course, he did have a vague idea of what Nexisul had been trying to do for the past month - acquire new “assets” and return with them in one piece. Or, well, really half a piece, but that was counting Hearts as body parts, and, of course, Nobodies didn’t have Hearts, so they didn’t have to worry about that. (One would hope so, anyway.)

But all of the backstory in the world wouldn’t tell Luiax if Nexisul had actually succeeded in recruiting a new member, and so the young teen was hidden behind a wall, eavesdropping the best he could. He couldn’t hear much, and half of his attention was directed at keeping up the illusion keeping him out of sight, but it was better than nothing.

Vaguely, he heard something about unseen circumstances and collateral damage, and something else about needing to call a meeting at some point. Nothing really interesting or informative. What finally piqued his interest, though, was what Nexisul said in response to Xemnas (was it Xemnas? It sounded like Xemnas) asking him something Luiax couldn’t quite hear.

“That world’s set to fall in a couple days, anyway. Didn’t really need to clean up after myself if it’s just going to be erased in a few days.”

Xemnas said something that sounded like “are you sure?” in reply. Nexisul made a vague noise of agreement. “I could feel the darkness. Just had to...nudge things along a little.”

Xemnas said something Luiax couldn’t hear. Nexisul hesitated for a moment. “Hold on,” he said. Footsteps approached the door, and Luiax scurried away as quickly as he could, slightly disgruntled at being caught once again.

Once he was a safe distance away from the room, he paused, dispelling the magic that still lingered around him. He didn’t want to completely drain his stores. Confident that he wasn’t about to be yelled at by Nexisul for eavesdropping (again), he relaxed, leaning against the wall and staring at the ceiling.

Without warning, a hand grabbed his shoulder. On instinct, Luiax summoned his staff and whirled around, pointing it at the person who’d grabbed him. Said person just stared at him, apathetic.

The person was wearing standard Organization clothing, but Luiax couldn’t recall having seen them before. Messy, dark gray hair stuck out from under their hood, which they’d pulled up. Most of their face was blocked by bandages, but their right eye was uncovered.

_ Blue eyes,  _ Luiax noted, a bit absentmindedly. Neither of them moved for a very awkward moment. Eventually, the person rolled their eye (eyes?) and cleared their throat. “You gonna move, or what?”

Startled, Luiax lowered his weapon. “What?”

“You were blocking the doorway.” The newcomer sounded like a boy. That wasn’t really a reliable way of telling someone’s gender, but it was all Luiax had at the moment.

“Oh. Sorry,” Luiax said, embarassed. He moved out of the way, letting his staff drop and fade into mist. “Do I know-”

“You don’t know me,” the newcomer interrupted. “Name’s Xemhila. Sorry if I spooked you.” He didn’t sound sorry at all, but Luiax couldn’t really blame him for that. “‘m new.”

“Figured.” Luiax rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. “Uh, I know I already apologized, but sorry again for blocking the door. My name’s Luiax, I’m…” He hesitated. “I’m number thirteen. If that helps.”

“It doesn’t, but thanks.”

Another awkward silence fell over the two. After a moment, Luiax spoke again, not looking Xemhila in the eyes (eye?) as he did. “So, uh, do you already know your way around, or do you want me to-”

“You can show me around if you want,” Xemhila replied, not waiting for Luiax to finish. “I got the basic runaround, but it wasn’t much.”

“Okay. Okay,” Luiax said, mind blanking for a moment.  _ I didn’t expect him to actually agree-  _ “Uh, you- did you see the Library yet?”

“Nah.” Xemhila rummaged around in his pockets for a moment before grimacing. “Is there a place I can get metal scraps or something?”

Luiax paused for a moment. “Yeah, but why metal scraps?”

“Just need something to do, I guess.” Xemhila shrugged, his gaze wandering to the doorway behind Luiax. “Anyway, you said something about a library?”

“Yeah. Follow me,” Luiax said, turning to leave the hallway. He looked back over his shoulder to make sure Xemhila had noticed. “I don’t want you getting lost.”

“Doubt I would,” Xemhila muttered, but nevertheless, he followed. Luiax felt some sort of feeling bubble up in his chest. Strange, but not really harmful, so long as none of the higher-ups caught wind of it.

_ This isn’t so bad. _

  
  


***

  
  


It had been approximately one hour, thirty-three minutes, and twelve seconds since Chowderclef and Ienzo had run into a literal corpse in a warehouse.

The world was dying. Ienzo could feel it; the further they travelled, the worse the darkness got. Heartless were scattered across the streets, and he could tell that even Chowderclef knew something was off.

Something very bad had happened here.

He wasn’t sure of the time, of course. He’d never lived here, and he hadn’t been here to witness whatever it was. It was extremely likely to be related to the darkness saturating everything around them, though; it was too dark, even for a city that experienced endless night.

Ienzo saw the cracks before Chowderclef did. He tugged on Chowderclef’s arm, stopping him dead in his tracks. “Don’t step on that,” he said, his voice echoing unnaturally. “It’s- this world’s falling apart.”

“I just don’t get it,” Chowderclef muttered, puzzled. “This couldn’t have happened in just a few days. I wasn’t gone that long!”

“It can,” Ienzo replied, his tone grave. His voice doesn’t feel like it’s coming from him, but the logical part of his brain knows it is. “I’ve seen it happen. Hell, my own world fell like this, before…”

Ienzo’s voice trailed off. Chowderclef glanced at him, concerned. “Are you okay?”

“I think a better question is, are you okay?” Ienzo deflected the question back at him. “This is your world, not mine.”

“I…” Chowderclef stared at the cracks in the earth, brow furrowed. “I dunno.”

Ienzo nodded. “I don’t think it’s going to hold out much longer. We need to leave.”

“But-”

“Chowderclef.” Ienzo turned to look at him, his eyes stern. “If we don’t leave, we’re going to die.”

Chowderclef opened his mouth to argue. Paused. Closed it. After another moment’s hesitation, he nodded. “Okay,” he said, his voice quiet for once. “Let’s go, then.”

And so, they walked in silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im pretty sure 90% of my reasoning for killing off like 99% of night city was "this situation cannot just be resolved by throwing possessio at it" so he had to go. he had to. im so sorry jack bright


End file.
